My life and work with animals has been marked – and blessed- with animals I call spirit animals. Simon was one of them. Spirit animals mark the passages of our lives, they are magical helpers that guide us on our own hero journeys. They come when they are needed, they go when they please, when their work is finished.

I have had a number of spirit animals enter and leave my life – Orson, Rose, Izzy, and now, Simon. I believe that spirit animals do not come to stay with us for long, they come for a purpose, and when done, they enter the lives of other humans, that is their work. Orson led me to Bedlam Farm, Rose helped me survive there, Izzy brought me to hospice and my photography, Simon opened my heart and mind to new experience, and he did, in fact, teach me the meaning of compassion.

Simon was – is – such an animal, a powerful spirit. In many ways, he was the soul and dominant presence of Bedlam Farm, he was the leader of the pasture, the commander of the animals, an animal who loved people and was prickly and domineering with other animals. As much as he loved people, he was not always generous to other creatures. He drove Rocky, our blind pony, off of the farm and sparked his death, he chased the sheep out of the Pole Barn, Lulu and Fanny kicked him regularly to keep him in his place, but never really could.

He was a spirit animal, but he was also a donkey, true to both.

Simon was two creatures really, the one thousands of people flocked to our farm to meet and touch, a grouchy and frequently discordant note in our kingdom. Simon and I were quite connected to one another, a soul connection. We communicated very powerful with each other, and he trusted me completely. I will never forget his permitting me to touch his eyes and put my hand in his infected mouth to rub stinging ointments on his gums. I cherish the memory of reading donkey stories to him, he simply loved it, drank them in. He accepted me completely, and was always calm and loving in my company. Maria came to love him as much.

In my lifetime, spirit animals appear to replace those that have gone, in a place of their own time and choosing. Rose came after Orson, Izzy appeared as Rose faded, Simon came after Izzy died of cancer. Frieda was a powerful spirit animal for Maria, she came when was needed, she is preparing to leave.  Then Red, a powerful animal spirit and now dominant presence on the farm.  Karen Thompson, a mystic and spiritualist, understood we needed to be together when no one else, including me, could see it.

Maria and I do not seek animals out, or look to rescue them. We wait for them to appear, and I suspect another animal will find its way to our farm, our lives with them are not over, I am still a pilgrim on a passage. My spirit animals are all working animals, and for a time, at least, I am their work. I have needed quite a bit of work it seems.

In some ways, Simon’s spirit was very strong, he changed me and challenged me in new and completely unexpected ways. He taught me to see the world differently.  I am sorry he and I will not get to take long walks in the forests behind our farm. I will miss his morning bray, and my daily kiss on his nose. Lulu and Fanny will, I suspect, be stronger presences in their own right, and I see Red as taking his very rightful place as the dominant spirit here on the farm. He too is a leader, a soulmate, a spirit dog who very clearly marks the passages of my life.

Every animal on the farm trusts and knows Red, he is everywhere, doing his herding work, his therapy work, his people work.

I believe Simon’s purpose was to lead me to our new home, and to open me to new experience – Red, community, our new farm, Rocky, the blind pony, a luminous spirit animal. When spirit animals are ready, they find a way to come, when they are done, they find a way to leave. This is my faith, my theology, my life with animals, and what it has shown me and taught me.

I wish green and open pastures for Simon, lady donkeys for him to pursue and flirt with, admirers with bags of carrots and apples,  piles of soft straw for him to rest his twisted legs on, and perhaps most of all, a needy and confused human in need of direction and inspiration. This was his gift to me, my gift to pass on to another. Go in joy, Simon, with gratitude and in peace and compassion.

You have left my life brighter and richer than when you found it.